Lyudmila regrets letting her nephew stay in their flat—now she has more enemies in the family than neighbours.
Lyudmila and her younger sister, Jennifer, grew up in a quiet market town in the south, where gossip travels faster than the wind. Their lives took very different paths.
Lyudmila was the “golden girl” of her school—top marks, a scholarship to university in Manchester, where she met her future husband, Thomas. The two married, settled down, and later inherited a modest flat.
Jennifer stayed behind. Two failed marriages, two children. Some blamed her stubborn nature, others her poor taste in men, but she eventually moved back in with their parents.
Lyudmila and Thomas had their struggles too. Money came and went. Yet step by step, they built a future. First a rented room, then a small flat—saved for their son, William, who later enrolled in medical school. The plan was simple: once he graduated and married, he and his wife, Emily, would move into their own space.
But nothing went as planned.
When Jennifer’s son, Daniel, finished school, he also headed to Manchester for college. He couldn’t afford rent, so Jennifer begged her sister to let him stay—just for a year or two. Promised he’d pay his way, find work, and leave as soon as possible. Lyudmila, trusting, agreed.
Two years flew by. William proposed to Emily. Wedding plans began. Lyudmila warned Daniel: “You’ll need to move out by summer. William and Emily will take the flat in autumn.”
Fair, right? Then the excuses started.
“New job, barely any pay…”
“My girlfriend’s pregnant…”
“We’re planning to marry soon…”
Lyudmila and Thomas gave them until September. Repairs were needed before William could move in. Jennifer knew. She nodded, agreed—”Of course, we’ll sort it.”
Summer faded. August came. Jennifer called. “No money to help Daniel. My daughter’s expecting, needs it more. And there’s the wedding…”
Next, the grandparents called, pleading. “He’s your nephew! Family comes first!”
Lyudmila and Thomas relented. “End of November. That’s final.”
Winter arrived. Weddings happened. Babies were born. But William and Emily still lived with his parents—while Daniel, his wife, Sophie, and their newborn occupied *their* flat. And showed no sign of leaving.
New excuses every week.
“Late pay again…”
“Found a place, but it’s awful…”
“Lost my phone, couldn’t call…”
“Nearly hospitalised, couldn’t sort it…”
Lyudmila called—no answer. She went in person—no one opened the door, though she knew they were home. The next time, she brought Thomas. Daniel answered—and lunged at his uncle. That was the final straw.
Lyudmila trembled with rage and humiliation. For the first time, she realised: family ties aren’t about love. They’re about exploitation. Manipulation. Being used until there’s nothing left.
Then the pressure campaign began. Grandparents and Jennifer called William.
“Have you no shame?”
“Sophie’s milk dried up from the stress!”
“How can you throw out family with a newborn?”
But Lyudmila and Thomas had had enough. They filed a notice. Called the police. Two months later—eviction.
William and Emily finally moved into their flat. A fresh start. As for Lyudmila? She doesn’t answer calls from relatives anymore. Not Jennifer. Not her parents. None of them.
Family isn’t blood—it’s who stands by you. Not those who smile while grinding you into the dirt.
So, what do you think? Are family bonds about self-sacrifice—or mutual respect?
